Independent Insecurity

Woke up this morning at 5:30 so I could take the bus to my future University and pick up my 'aspiring student' ID for my entrance exam in May. The real life is just around the corner. D:
My mom came with me, although she knows the streets the same as me, which means she doesn't really know the city. After coming back, I can safely say that I prefer the calm, quiet small county life instead of the traffic and car horns.
Anywho, my brother invited me to the pool next week (or next next week) where his entire class is going to de-stress themselves from school. I said maybe. Why? because I feel... unqualified to skimp around in (not a bikini! I would get traumatized!) shorts and a tight shirt seeing as I've been eating compulsively in the past few days weeks. Well, not weeks exactly. Remember when I told you about the guy that likes me? Well, I was eating fine and without any bad thoughts about my weight since my mom and I moved back in with my grandma. Then my cousin's dad died, and since she doesn't have any friends (and she needed some to comfort her) I invited him to the funeral. He came, in his black motorcycle, (dressed as well in black) and started chatting it up with both of us.  Everything was going fine, until he pinched my cheeks and said,

"Well, aren't you getting chubbier..."

 And then he turned around to my cousin and said (while pointing at me),

"Her cheeks are rounder, aren't they?"

 You can imagine the gears in my head turning, and my smile fading off. After that, I started eating like a pig lots.
If only you knew how a simple comment like that is dangerous for people like us. If you only knew how many nights we've cried over our bodies. Or how many cuts and scars we've made to punish ourselves. How is it that you find a comment like that to be funny?
I was this much to telling him about my issues with food and weight but I didn't. He'd think I was stupid.
Back to the pool news, I've decided to diet since tomorrow until the day of the outing because my real love interest (since junior high) is going to be there (the interest was mutual but since I'm so insecure, I let him go.) and I've also decided to make him my boyfriend. After 6 years, I think it's due.
I'm going running on Friday to fight the flab.
This sloth-like state has just got to go already. Willpower, ladies!